Kiss Me Hard; Damn You!
Chapter 5.
Annoyed... frantic.
Patience's end.
My manager seems to have forever left me out of work. It has been a month, a month since I departed my legs for some rich guy to have his ways with my genitalia, for money.
Why, yes, I am truly and really sarcastic tonight.
Obnoxious. Who cares? It's not like anyone reads these terribly foolish thoughts of mine, right?
Right. Deep, inside, somewhere for sure, there's this feeling of uneasiness I have. Maybe I shouldn't have kept sleeping with Sebastian for the last... uhh.... ten years. Oh my nothing! I am 26, and yet I still have the same sexual partner I did when I was 16. Then again, beside him, there are so many others.
A simple glance into the mirror makes it obvious that being at my apartment all of the time is taking its toll on my appearance. Dark circles, thinner, paler, as smoked as ever.
Most of the time, I lay on my bed, smoking, simply staring at the ceiling. Thinking. Wondering. Questioning.
Right at this moment, as I weirdly lay here, with my hair hanging down from my head close to the floor, and the ashtray filled with remains of what were some truly great cigarettes, I am doing nothing but that. What else am I supposed to do? Read? No. Books depress me. Watch T.V.? No. I'd take my life away. Eat? No. It blows. Shop? No. I hate it. Listen to music? No. It depresses me.
Write? No.
"Those are dreams, plain dreams, my Rose. You're too beautiful to be a writer. You should be a character in a book. The devilish, gorgeous vixen." he said.
Lack of patience wins over me. I feel isolated. I don't need the sex. Nor the money, which I still have. I need the activity, a bit. The life. I feel lifeless, completely lifeless. And that is, in all honesty, the last thing I want to feel.
I dial the ever-so well known phone number. Plain, annoying opening message. I decide to wait for the beep. For some reason, I have never left a single message in my entire life.
"Good morning, SweetFuck. I'm a just a tad wondering around... No projects have been handed to me in the past month or so. Lack of activity has me numb and stupid. Be a sweet fuck and give me a call about some new projects in line for me. Will you? I fuck you, Rose."
Patience's end.
My manager seems to have forever left me out of work. It has been a month, a month since I departed my legs for some rich guy to have his ways with my genitalia, for money.
Why, yes, I am truly and really sarcastic tonight.
Obnoxious. Who cares? It's not like anyone reads these terribly foolish thoughts of mine, right?
Right. Deep, inside, somewhere for sure, there's this feeling of uneasiness I have. Maybe I shouldn't have kept sleeping with Sebastian for the last... uhh.... ten years. Oh my nothing! I am 26, and yet I still have the same sexual partner I did when I was 16. Then again, beside him, there are so many others.
A simple glance into the mirror makes it obvious that being at my apartment all of the time is taking its toll on my appearance. Dark circles, thinner, paler, as smoked as ever.
Most of the time, I lay on my bed, smoking, simply staring at the ceiling. Thinking. Wondering. Questioning.
Right at this moment, as I weirdly lay here, with my hair hanging down from my head close to the floor, and the ashtray filled with remains of what were some truly great cigarettes, I am doing nothing but that. What else am I supposed to do? Read? No. Books depress me. Watch T.V.? No. I'd take my life away. Eat? No. It blows. Shop? No. I hate it. Listen to music? No. It depresses me.
Write? No.
"Those are dreams, plain dreams, my Rose. You're too beautiful to be a writer. You should be a character in a book. The devilish, gorgeous vixen." he said.
Lack of patience wins over me. I feel isolated. I don't need the sex. Nor the money, which I still have. I need the activity, a bit. The life. I feel lifeless, completely lifeless. And that is, in all honesty, the last thing I want to feel.
I dial the ever-so well known phone number. Plain, annoying opening message. I decide to wait for the beep. For some reason, I have never left a single message in my entire life.
"Good morning, SweetFuck. I'm a just a tad wondering around... No projects have been handed to me in the past month or so. Lack of activity has me numb and stupid. Be a sweet fuck and give me a call about some new projects in line for me. Will you? I fuck you, Rose."
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Plain, annoying update. More updates to come soon, I've neglected this story. Sorry, subscribers. Comments appreciated.